For Death, I Dance
by Aslog
Summary: A dark story. Inspired by the tale of Hades and Persephone. Fem!Harry and Tom Riddle. Very dark. Read at your own risk. No flamers please Mentions of Cannibalism


For Death, I Dance

Chapter 1

Tom ripped a morsel of flesh from the body, his red eyes surveying the white grandeur of Malfoy Manor.

There was a twitch of curtain; no doubt the Master of the house was watching.

Tom knew Lucius would be anxious to know if his tribute was well received.

This night it was.

Tom was content to leave the Death Eater family alone for they had provided him with a grand feast.

Six beautiful Muggles were arranged upon slabs of marble their limbs artfully splayed and chests cleaved open. The heart, lungs and livers of the offerings were set upon golden platters.

Around them were the choicest fruit and flowers, cut and placed on the most delicate china the Malfoy's possessed.

The air was thick with the perfume of the garden, and the moon glowed brightly down on Tom as he consumed his feast.

There was not a sound to be heard, even the insects where quiet. There was nothing beyond the wet sounds of his meal.

Yet he knew.

Tom always knew.

He could hear the frantic beat of a heart as he slowly finished his sacrifice and left the Manor.

The heart beat faster as the once vibrant garden began to wither and die in his wake and was as loud as trumpets as Tom passed through the gates of the Manor.

 _There was always a few,_ Tom thought as he looked straight at the hiding Wizards.

They had come to kill him.

One was shaking so severely has wand slipped through his fingers. With a strangled gasp his lungs were pulled up his throat and were left twitching, eyes wide with horror until he stilled.

Tom was not as merciful upon the second. He tore every last vein from his body as he screamed and begged to die.

He writhed in agony for hours until that mercy was granted.

Tom was followed by fog, dust and death as he journeyed north. The magical folk bowing and praying to him as he passed.

They hoped to buy his favour as he passed.

Even the Lightest families left little gifts of death.

A lamb, its heart plucked out and left upon a bed of hawthorn and belladonna.

A brace of doves their breasts split open and stuffed with elm leaves.

Rich or poor they always left for him the best they could offer. Hoping it would stop him from darkening their doorstep; that he would spare them one more year.

Sometimes it was enough.

Often not.

There were many gifts of death left for him, as he neared the ancient village of Hogsmead. The roads and empty fields were wet with blood, and little offerings were left.

The shrines of every house were left there to greet him.

For the villagers it was a tradition as old as they could remember, him passing through the streets with only the cold and fog in his wake.

His chill would last for days. Not even the noon-day sun had the strength to penetrate his frost.

Not a whisper could be heard as he walked the road to Hogwarts.

There was a hush of fear as he entered the gates of the castle, even the trees seemed hunched in readiness.

Everyone knew that from the hallowed halls of the grand castle would come his most potent sacrifice.

Since the foundations of the castle were set, so was the eldritch bargain.

One student for one year of peace.

So had been done for a thousand years and would be done for a thousand more.

The founders had sealed the bargain with their very lives.

There wasn't a single light in the castle as he travelled the grounds, getting closer to the forest and leaving all vegetation withered in his wake.

Hogwarts would be barren of all plant life by the morning, and it would take a year to recover. By then he would be back.

That always amused Tom.

At long last, he comes to the shadow of the Forbidden Forest.

There tied to a stake as old as the castle is a young Witch in white.

Her throat has been cut, and the loose flaps of skin flutter faintly in the breeze. Her long blood clumped hair is black against her white skin.

What catches Tom's attention is the bejewelled chalice between her feet.

In the moonlight the contents look black but as the cup is raised to his lips, the blood shines like rubies and glitter with life and magic.

As the blood slides down his throat, Tom's skin prickles in delight.

The blood of every student and teacher in Hogwarts was in that cup. With every sip, he can feel there power and emotion.

Thousands of fears, hundreds of joys and drops of magic pooling in his belly.

Savouring the last of the blood, Tom moves to the girl. She was undoubtedly a pretty thing in Life, but Death had made her exquisite.

With one quick movement, he ripped the gown from the girl's body. He revealed milky white skin and a womanly body with round hips and full breasts, stained with her hearts blood.

Tom is ravenous and his mouth waters at the sight of such beautiful meat.

The moon shines down upon them as Tom prepares to feast.

But he stops. Looking around he notices the unwithered ground.

Everywhere her blood touched has been spared his presence.

His heart beats.

 _Could she be?_

He stepped back, considering her.

There had always been a lingering suspicion that he couldn't be the last of his kind. For if there was the unquiet death, there was the quiet life.

Never the less he had long ago resigned himself to being alone. Too many had either perished by his hand or another's, and he had no desire to rid the world of a race so few.

But to know for sure.

Tom dived down to her, her body hanging like a sliver of moon and began licking the dried blood from her neck and breasts.

The long forgotten taste of life was a revelation upon his tongue he shuddered with feeling.

With a slash of his claws, he released her bindings, and she tumbled into his arms.

Chapter 2

Tom lay his bride-to-be on the prettiest grave in his home.

He dressed her in a shroud of cobwebs and wove thorns into her hair.

She looked beautiful for her wedding day.

He gently kissed her cheeks and lovingly scooped dirt around her.

Tom commands the gravestones to form an altar for the ceremony.

The ancient stones are hesitant to move, but he has been Lord here for eons, and they have no choice but to obey his wishes, shifting and hefting themselves into an alter fit for his Lady.

He smiles down at his beloved; so regal and serene in her death.

There is life in her fair features, and when she rises, together they will raze the world.

She would give him handsome children and would restore order and make the callow people of the earth fearful again.

He would create as well as destroy, there would be a whole new order, and his kind would walk supreme again.

Gazing at her in the still night he knew they would consume the world together.

Tom gently kissed her pale lips and carved his love into her flesh.

She awakened an hour before dawn.

Her green eyes blinked at him, as he writes his devotion into her belly.

His breath catches as she reaches up to stroke his gaunt cheek.

There is no condemnation in her eyes but a wary understanding as she pushes his hands from her body.

"We should not wed," she says her voice still raspy from death.

"We are to halves of the same whole, our union is inevitable," Tom replies, bowing his head to lick up a few beads of blood.

She sits up "I know of the destruction we will weave, the carnage that will unfold."

Tom smiles, "such beautiful slaughter is our birthright. It is our nature, surely. You can't feel sorry for these creatures who snub us at will. Together we will reset the balance between life and death."

She is torn, she green eyes sparkle with bloodlust.

But she has spent too much time, with the mortals. They sway her against him.

"I reject you."

There is a stab of sadness in his chest. A gulf of grief in his body, but he keeps his face impassive.

It hurts to hear her words. But this is not the end, there will be time, she cannot fight him for all eternity.

He stands and offers her his hand.

She doesn't take it, eying it warily ad she scrambles up and edges past him, careful not to make contact.

Tom watches as she breaks into a run and disappears into the gloom.

Chapter 3

Tom becomes her silent witness.

By the dark of night, he haunts Hogwarts, tasting the hundreds of leftover emotions floating in the air.

The distrust is like vinegar on the back of his throat.

The fear like liquorice.

Directed at his beloved Harriet Potter.

He'd learnt her name, as his servants slithered through the halls she walked. And he held that close to his chest, like a secret for him alone.

Listening to the whispers; learning their secrets and hates.

They called her unnatural, a devil girl and demoness.

They jeered and asked her what deal she had struck with him to bring her back from the dead.

Even those she called friends cast her suspicious glances.

Especially as his courtship gifts arrived.

The gifts of the dead were numerous, and he gave them all to her.

A crown of teeth and thorns weaved into her hair at night.

Glistening hearts on pewter plates set on her bedside table.

Poems carved lovingly into the belly and thighs of his most beautiful sacrifices.

Tom even sent his most loyal serpents, as Harriet's friends broke faith. They hissed at him how his beloved wept golden tears that heated their scales like liquid sunlight.

His long un-beating heart wrenched for her as he lay the heads of her betrayers at the foot of her bed.

Screams from the tower followed his departure.

Tom stood by the gates of the old castle as Harriet was cast out of Hogwarts.

He holds out his arms as she walks towards him and the writhing roots of the ancient forest begin to climb the stones of Hogwarts.

His heart beats with happiness as the grand castle fell.

Chapter 4

Together they stand in the moonlit graveyard, the stones upright like a thousand witnesses with hundreds of night-blooming flowers as white as bone around them.

His beloved Harriet is covered by only a gossamer veil made from cobwebs which fall around her body in a delicate wave.

They walk together to the altar, where naught but a single chalice stands.

Tom gave her the cup, "With this, we will be wed."

Harriet drank deeply, her luminous eye on him.

"We are wed."

Tom drained the cup in one swallow.


End file.
